How Pusser’s rum became the official drink of the British Royal Navy

By Manu Remakant

On the deck of HMS Fife, docked in Pearl Harbour, soldiers stood wearing black armbands as the sun rose on July 31, 1970. They looked sombre — part formal, part grieving. Following a 21-gun salute, they held their glasses high — their last “tot” — and cried: “The Queen.” They tossed back the drink and threw the glasses into the blue water below. They were not alone.

Anchored near the International Dateline, HMS Fife was the last among the many British ships that lowered their oars for a moment to say goodbye to a tradition they had been following for around 300 years. Tot was the daily ration of rum the Royal British Navy had nursed in its long seafaring history.

But the navy hardly figured in the scene when the drink took birth in the dark and sinister sugarcane plantations in the Caribbean some three and half centuries ago. Europe needed sugar in the 17th century. In plenty. And for planters from England, the vast, barren lands of the Caribbean islands looked perfect for growing sugarcane. As they made sugar from molasses, they stumbled across a more interesting by-product, thanks to the extreme heat and fermentation — rumbullian alias rum.

The drink, which first quenched the thirst of workers and planters, eventually crossed the oceans to reach America and Europe. Demand increased — for sugar and rum. The planters needed workers who could be forced to work in such punishing conditions.

People in Africa were enslaved for it. As trade increased and money and merchandise floated in the ocean, traders attracted pirates. The water between the Caribbean and Europe turned red with violence. The traders had only one option — send an SOS to the British Royal Navy. The navy glided in, lured not only by the big money the traders offered but also by the dark liquid sloshing inside the barrels in their ships.

Just Right
Till then, the English sailors had tried every drink they could get their hands on. Beer went stale during long voyages. Wine followed. French brandy was good for a while, but it turned anti-national once England fell out with France.

Gin was more Dutch, their arch-rival in the seas. So rum fit into the role of the official drink of the British Royal Navy. It was a long honeymoon. The humid heat of the tropics could only be fought with some stiff drink. Add to that the squalid condition in the quarters below the decks where hundreds of sailors sweated away at the oars. The long tedious voyages needed some reprieve. Rum not only gave them that, but also imparted some sense of taste amid the cold porridge and salted meat that came in daily. They called the drink Pusser’s rum because the ship’s purser (pusser is the slang for it) was responsible for issuing the rum. Pusser’s became the original rum of the British Navy. But it did not take long for the British Navy to realise that if unchecked, the new habit could spell disaster to their authority on the seas. Meanwhile, the sailors suspected that the drink they were served had been watered down. They invented an ingenious method to prove its spirit. They poured a bit of their ration on gunpowder.

If it smouldered and burned, it was proof. If it exploded, it was overproof, with a higher alcohol content. If nothing happened, the purser might himself be tossed into the sea. The term “proof strength” for alcohol originated from this suspicion of the daily ration of rum. Over the years, naval strength rum has become the stuff of legends. Meanwhile, on board, incidents of drunken acts and violence grew. British Admiral Edward Vernon, who was called “Old Grog”, oversaw the ships in the Caribbean for many years in the 18th century. He took steps to thin down the black liquid. Sailors tasted the new avatar and groaned — and called it grog rather than rum after the admiral’s nickname.

In the 20th century, when ships were carrying sophisticated weapons, sane heads on land decided that they needed steady hands on board. The tot must leave the vessels forever. Decisions were made, acts passed and soon painfully accepted. So in the morning of July 31, 1970, British sailors all over the world stood on the deck to have their last tot. And they tossed the glasses into the sea. But all the waters in the world could not drown Pusser’s rum. When the Royal Navy bid farewell to it, Charles Tobias, an entrepreneur, salvaged it, obtaining the rights to make it. He stuck to the tradition.

Thanks to him, today you could taste many versions of the drink that served seamen for centuries — Pusser’s Gunpowder Proof, Pusser’s Rum Original Admiralty Blend, etc. Produced from British Virgin Islands, Trinidad and Guyana, Pusser’s is a blend of five stills. It is a veritable experience of Carribean islands and cultures. The bright goldencoloured spirit of the Gunpowder Proof brings the aroma of oak blended with coffee and honey. Take a sip. The tangy orange zest is unmissable and you can also pick up faint notes of vanilla, light toffee and spicy oak. Ice goes well with Pusser’s rum or you can add cola to smoothen its sharp edges. And if you think back to the sailors, you might feel the sea at the back of the throat.

The writer is an associate professor in Kerala.